


Hunger Pains

by Gingersnapped



Series: A Light in the Void [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Cannibalism, Void Emily, juuuust in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingersnapped/pseuds/Gingersnapped
Summary: Words that weren't her own surfaced in her memory. Everything has a price. Emily looked at the pool of blood on the floor and The Outsider's words echoed repeatedly in her head. A price, a price, a price.Emily's eyes widened when the answer came to her. She shut her eyes tightly until she could see stars. She was preoccupied, sure, and she had never had never used this half form before but...it shouldn't have taken her this long for all the clues to make sense.The hunger was the price.





	Hunger Pains

**Author's Note:**

> If you've played the game at all, you'll know that you can eat whatever the hell you want in Dishonored and Dishonored 2, even if you dont NEED to. And so, came this headcanon.

Receiving the Outsider's mark had burned, in the way that icy water burns your nerves and sends your skin into shock. It had its own heartbeat that was in sync with the one that carried her mother's soul. It would beat faster when Void magic was nearby, as if it was excited. It urged her own heart to flutter alongside it, like twin drums.

Emily thought, maybe that's what she was feeling, at first. Adjusting to _wanting_ Void magic. She wasn't a witch, necessarily, nor was she a worshipper of the Outsider. But she couldn't stop the pit of her stomach from twisting, wanting, craving, even when she picked up runes and bone shards and passed by shrines.

The Outsider was kind enough to ...vaguely explain to her, during one of his impromptu visits.

It was a “ _balance of natural order in the unnatural”_ he had said. Emily remembers staring at him with bemusement.

_The Outsider grins coyly, the only way he seems to know how. He tilts his head a little from where he's floating, and casually makes a gesture._

_“When you receive a service, or take something that wasn't yours, unless you mean to become a thief all humans understand the meaning of trade; equivalent exchange of goods, to make sure everyone gets their paid due.”_

_Emily looks at him blankly. “I don't understand.”_

_She jumps when he materializes next to her and holds up her hands in surprise. He does it often, for as often as he visits her, but Emily still isn't used to it._

_The Outsider takes this opportunity to gently grasp her left hand. Her marked hand. His palm feels cold as marble, and he tilts Emily's own hand to her._

_“Everything has a price, Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin.” He bores into her with his own black, unseeing eyes. “Even some ‘gifts’ come with a cost. Your father learned this lesson as well.”_

And then he was gone, and she was looking at an empty shrine, with very little to go off on. Until one day, today. Something very off-putting.

Though she didn’t like it, Emily stole when she had to. Whether it be money, items she could sell to the black market, or food. Though she _did_ try to take from those who could spare it, and remembered the homes she took from so she could reimburse them somehow. More often than not, however, she did take food.

Emily figured it was because of the increased amount of exertion and use of magic that constantly had her eating. She had a high metabolism anyway, and now she needed to keep her energy up since she was jumping from rooftops, running from guards, and trying to stay undetected. It took a lot of energy, she thought, so _that_ made reason for her to be hungry.

But, she realized as she was panting roughly through her silk scarf, she didn’t remember when was the last time she had felt filled.

Emily was currently on the floor of a basement somewhere in the Dust District, her heart pounding, body twisting into itself. She her own arms tightly against herself, thinking of how this happened. Every piece of evidence slid into slots in her mind, it all made sense.

Crouched on the dirt floor, blood mixing into it from the body just feet away, Emily tried to think of everything that had happened that brought her here.

___

 

Emily’s boots squeaked as she stood up from her drop. She is 25 years old, but her joints still hurt more than when she was 18, jumping over rooftops for fun. She does it now out of necessity. Emily thanks the Void that catapulting her body forward at incredible speed with her powers doesn’t affect her body at all, she would need a doctor way more often than she’d be allowed. However, as it stands, hopping down from a balcony does make her wish she still had the nimbleness of even a couple of years ago.

Shaking her legs out, Emily’s hands tapped at her mouth to make sure it was still covered. She subconsciously checked all her gear and looked for signs of the Black Marketplace that pointed her in this direction. Emily hummed aloud. As Empress (or, well...The _real_ Empress) she knew she shouldn’t condone the use of illegal trade, but growing up with someone like Corvo Attano as a father and personal guard altered those morals a tiny bit.

 _Finally_ , Emily thought when her eyes landed on a small, barely there but familiar drawing near the floor on a wall. This was a neutral area for her, sitting just between the Abbey and the Crone's Hand, and everyone was preoccupied with their own daily routines. Still, because of all the silver dust in the air it was quite vacant.

Emily’s steps echoed through the somewhat empty underside of the markets as she made her way toward the door the vague arrow pointed to. She reached the doorknob when she heard a meek voice calling in her direction.

“Excuse me, Miss, please.”

Turning around, Emily looked behind her to find...no one. She blinked and looked down.

Barely there was a man dressed in rags, and he nearly blended into the cardboard and blankets that surrounded him. This was obviously where he made his home. Emily’s heart sank a thousandth time. If anything good had happened since Delilah had forcefully taken over her position, it was that Emily was getting a good look at her people. And what she hadn’t been doing to help them.

There were so many things Emily wanted to fix, but there wasn’t much she could do in the immediate. She took any steps she could to right the wrong.

Digging into a pocket lining her finely made coat, Emily kneeled down grabbed the biggest coins she could in one hand. The man looked surprised, maybe because Emily was so forthcoming to help, maybe because of the amount she had in her hand, who knows. The coins clanked noisily as Emily dropped them into his tin cup, an irony she didn’t miss from being in a place laced with dust from a silver mine.

His smile was thin, a reflection of the rest of him. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“I’m sorry, I know it's not much but…”

“It is more than I had moments before, and for that I am grateful.” The man’s smile fell slowly, and a puzzled look entered his eye. “I feel like I’ve seen you before, have we crossed paths in the past?”

 _Perhaps on the coins I just put in your cup,_ Emily thought. She tried not to panic, she had been asked this question before, but she couldn’t help but feel the electricity under her skin urging her to run. Instead she responded as calmly as possible.

“I must have common eyes. The dust here makes everything a hazy memory anyway, like a silvergraph. Be well.” As quickly as she dared, Emily got up from her crouched position and spun to walk the other way.

“Wait!”

Emily froze in her tracks, one leg in front of her. She didn’t turn around.

There was a moment. “I noticed you coming from the balcony and rooftops, it seemed like you were trying to get around Howler territory. You don’t look like one yourself, so it would be bad if it got out that they have a weak spot in their fortress.”

Eyes widening for a second, Emily turned her head to regard the man on the ground.

“...That would be unfortunate for them, if that were true.” Emily began. “What do people say about that?”

The man grinned again and managed to look nonchalant. “Oh, you know these old buildings. Because of the dust, all the ventilation systems were built on the ground. Because of the dust, all means of filtration are gone, leaving holes for rats and other things to crawl through.”

“A shame,” Emily’s smile reached her eyes.

“Quite a shame. Especially in the South Eastern alley, the houses are especially decrepit there. It doesn’t make for a safe place to be, so you best avoid them.”

“Thank you for your advice, and your time.” Emily waved the back of her wrapped hand to the man as she walked away, forgetting about the Black Market. Her steps lead her to the South East Alleys of the Dust District.

“Be well.” The man called, his voice breaking off with wracking coughs.

____

The Howlers prefer the ground, which is just fine with Emily. Grand Guards occupy roofs of buildings like peregrine falcons in a city, but Howlers prowled the alleyways and dark spaces. This gave Emily the opportunity to use her Far Reach ability to quietly fly across the top of buildings and arches, way above the danger.

She looked below her from where she was perched on roof slats. They were fragile, sunbleached, and hot, but worst of all was the dust that settled on them making it easy for her to slip.

This section of the city was one of the places where Howler territory and Overseer territory met. They were guarded by both factions, on their respective sides. If Emily was a different person, one who didn’t find the constant struggle of negativity from both factions to be constantly irritating, she would have found it funny how they stared at each other like bullies on a playground.

There were, thankfully, only two Howlers here. The Overseers were too far for detection, she was sure, so it was just the Howlers she’d have to worry about. Emily leaned forward and stretched her left hand out, so that her mark “saw” where she intended to go. The feeling of sight through her hand was a bizarre one, and she could only compare it to echolocation.

Between the two thugs on the ground, Emily could only see one blind spot, and of course she couldn’t feel her reach go that far. She pulled the thick, Void magic back into her hand and shuffled around a bit on the slats, taking care not to slip. She didn’t hear or see the cracks in the slats right under her.

Leaning forward, Emily stretched her hand out again to try and feel for a better spot to pull herself. _There_ , Emily thought. Her position was almost comical, most of her body wasn’t on anything. It paid off, though, as she was beginning to feel the humming vibration of the Void magic seeing something she could grab. _Good thing my legs are so stro-_

_CRACK._

The cracked slats under Emily’s feet broke under the pressure of her leaning, and she was falling like a rock. There wasn’t any time, she quickly reached out in the direction she needed to go, and _tugged_ the Void magic like a rope. She shot down diagonally into some boxes, making even more noise. It was a disaster, she was a disaster, she could already hear yelling.

With her anxiety rising, Emily's thoughts were switching between fight or flight like a metronome as she scrambled to scoot backwards, behind the mess of boxes she had crashed into. Her body determined flight when the first Howler dart was fired. She _hated_ Howler bolts. Purely on instinct, she felt herself pull for the darkest Void magic within her to wrap her in its cloak and turn her into something made of shadows and whispers.

Emily's hands turned claws took long strides as her Dark Vision searched for a way in the building she was huddled against. Another Howler bolt pierced the air when she found it. A broken vent, just like the homeless man had said. Quick as a whip, Emily swiftly crawled as fast as she could to the vent and through the maze that dozens of tinier creatures journeyed before.

She hit the end, the other side of the ventilation system to the inside of the ruined home. She burst out with ink claws and smoke, and though she didn't need to breathe in this form Emily felt like she was out of breath.

 _Calm down_ . She thought to herself. Some rats were staring at her curiously just down the dusty hallway. _No one is after you, no one saw you, this is nothing._

Eventually Emily did calm down, and let go of the Void magic to shift back into her regular self. She stood up and dusted herself off, but just as she did an incredible pain erupted in her stomach and she doubled over. Her hand slid against the wall as she staggered to gain footing.

“What in the Void…?”

Now she _was_ gasping for air. She has had these pangs, Void urges she called them once humorlessly, but she'd never had them this bad. The feeling was always there, she was accustomed to it now. Grabbing runes and bone charms tied to the Void helped tide it somewhat, drinking those strange blue elixirs made by alchemists and doctors helped with some food as well.

Unfortunately, she was out of Addemire solution, could not feel any bone charms in her immediate vicinity, and she definitely didn't have any food. When she was like this she could eat an entire Gristol rabbit by herself. Probably.

Emily sighed out loud. Day dreaming wasn't getting her anywhere. “You're not helping yourself, Emily. Come on, you gave to get going, let's go…”

She stood leaning against the wall for a little longer anyway.

Moments later Emily straightened up and used her Dark Vision to look around her. Her glowing eyes blinked when she looked left. Not too far away there seemed to be a room with many objects. Small, lined up. Maybe on shelves?

Her mouth watered before she even thought that it might be a cellar, and what she may be looking at could be food. A quick stop, then she'd continue toward the Howler's hide out, get closer to Paolo, and finally to Stilton's mansion.

Her eyes scanned the area for another vent and she took off in that direction.

___

Okay, so it wasn't necessarily a food cellar. It was more like a weapons crafting basement with snacks and a guest. Emily nearly pissed herself when she saw a human shape huddled in one of the corners of the cement room, and was very relieved, even if a little disturbed, that he happened to be a captive Overseer. It solidified that she was in the right place. If there was an Overseer tied up, bleeding, and alive, there was only one place she could be.

That meant she had to be quick.

The good news was there was a bone charm down here. Emily heard it's song the moment she stood up in the room and nearly ran into the Overseer in her desperate movements.

Emily's fingers stroked the smooth bone on the charm as she looked at the shelves. The Void energy purred under her left hand, and her mark responded in kind.

The only other noise in the basement was the moaning of the Overseer, who was well out of it. He had taken one shuddering look at Emily and asked if she was the Outsider. They were all like this, Emily thought as she took a bite out of an apple she found. _Dramatic._

She was done with the Morsley apple in a few bites. Onto something else. Lucky for her, she found several cans of jellied eel and whale meat. She laughed lightly to herself at the find and stopped abruptly. How was she going to open these?

Emily shot a sparing look at the folding blade sitting on her belt. No way.

A quick look around didn't help either. No can opener, no split wedge, nothing. Typically she could find something she could use, but it seemed they didn't open these cans down here. Emily scowled at the can in her hand to emulate the scowling in her stomach. She turned it over a couple of times and paused to look at her covered mark. Maybe? No. What an absurd idea. She squinted her eyes for a moment and then made her decision.

Emily called forth her Shadow form, but… Not all the way. It was time for some impromptu experimentation. Focusing primarily on her hands, Emily watched as her fingers turned black and lengthened, sharpened. The pitch color bled up her arms, and she was unaware if it spread anywhere else, but she tried to hold it where it was. It held. Good, great. Here goes nothing.

The claw belonging to Emily's pointer finger scraped at the edge of the can's lid. Incredibly, it didn't need any coaxing at all. Her claw split the tin like it was made of tissue. A surprised _hm_ escaped her mouth. Nothing should surprise her anymore. Emily Kaldwin, rightful Empress to the Isles, framed as the Crown Killer, living can opener. In seconds flat, the whale in a can may as well have never had a lid.

Carefully, gently, Emily picked up a piece of meat and put it to her mouth. Her reaction was probably extensive, but she couldn't help herself. When she was like this, with this pain in her gut, everything tasted like she hadn't eaten in weeks. A sound of pleasure escaped her mouth, thank the Void she still had one in this in between form. Emily was almost beyond chewing her food, and started to lose herself. She didn't know how many cans there were, or how many she had gone through. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough, it wasn't eno-

“... I hope you're not too comforta- Augh! What! What the fuck are you doing… Down…”

Emily swung around, dropping whatever it was she was eating. What was she even eating? Did it matter?

She became lost for a moment, forgetting where she was, and began to look down. At what she dropped. All she saw was red. Red. Red.

Something loud pierced the air, and something heavy was coming at her from her left. Alarms sprang in Emily's brain, loud and bright. Oh it hurt, it HURT.

She almost didn't hear the blade cutting the air. She was faster, so much faster. Claws found purchase in soft skin and cloth. If the tin was paper, flesh was nothing.

It felt… Good.

Emily's ears were deaf to the Howler's cries of mercy, only wanting to feel the velvety sensation over and over again on her claws. _What a strange and lovely feeling_ , she thought. She had used her claws before, on rotten wood blocking a doorway. They _never_ felt like this.

A smell hit her nose. She could never smell things this well, or at all when she was completely in her other form. The smell was good, she decided. Using her claws like before, she picked up a piece of the food and brought it to her mouth. The cold Void magic on her talons was a stark contrast of the warm, wet canned whale in her mouth. It was better going down.

Emily put another piece into her mouth and appreciated the copper flavor of the-

Wait.

She snapped out of the haze that had gathered around her mind, and everything became clearer by the millisecond. Emily looked down for the third time that day, expecting, hoping, to find an open can of whale meat. She began to hyperventilate. She felt disgusted, nauseated, and could already feel her stomach coming back up.

On the ground, she could barely tell it was a body of a _person_.

“No,” Emily gasped. Her Void claws evaporated and she touched fingers to her face. It was wet. Her eyes watered and she whimpered to find her fingertips red. She blinked rapidly as she looked around, as if trying to find a way out of this explanation. “Oh, _God_ I-”

Emily bent over on her hands and began retching. Why, why, why, _why._

The vomiting seemed to go on forever, but her stomach settled eventually. She tried to make herself as small as possible, sitting on the floor and grasping her arms. _Breathe_ , Emily thought to herself. _In and out._

She did so with shaky breaths.

Words that weren't her own surfaced in her memory. _Everything has a price._ Emily looked at the pool of blood on the floor and The Outsider's words echoed repeatedly in her head. _A price, a price, a price._

Emily's eyes widened when the answer came to her. She shut her eyes tightly until she could see stars. She was preoccupied, sure, and she had never had never used this half form before but...it shouldn't have taken her this long for all the clues to make sense.

The hunger was the price.

Hatred for the Outsider sparked in her and died. This was on no one but herself, and she needed to take responsibility. It was too easy to hate him, and nothing would come out of it. Out of this.

A choking sob physically startled Emily. At first she thought it was somehow coming from the body. The body she _mauled._ But it was coming from the bound Overseer. At first Emily thought he was merely crying. And then she realized what he was actually doing.

Reciting the Seven Scrictures. Because of _her._ A whispered mumble came from the tortured man asking his Brothers to spare him a life of partnership with the Outsider.

It was too much right now. She felt sick. Guilty. She was a monster. She vowed to never do a half shadow form ever again. _Never again._ If this ever happened again, she would-  

She wasn’t able to finish the thought. On unsteady legs, Emily got up and left.

___

Many hours passed and found Emily in one of the abandoned buildings of the Dust District, right above a news office. The gentle _tic tic tic_ of the typewriters were calming, and the only reprieve she had from what she now realized were hunger pains. She ignored it.

Emily tried to ignore the memories of today that tried to resurface. Without realizing it, her right hand reached into her jacket and pulled out the mechanical heart humming with Void magic. It started to glow and beat like it was being roused from sleep, and her mother’s voice echoed in her head.

_My lovely daughter...It saddens me to hear your heart weeping...what ails you so?_

Despite Emily’s earlier composure, her mother’s voice cracked what stability Emily had and her face crumbled. She held the heart to her own and covered her face with her other hand. It was a dry cry, without any tears. She was too tired for them.

“I did something terrible,” Emily began. “I don’t deserve to lead anyone when I have these thoughts, Mother. How can I possibly deserve it?”

There was a silence for a time. Emily would have thought the heart went back to sleep if it weren’t for the whistling of winds from the Void being broadcast from it.

_My dear Emily...Every great leader that ever was great never thought they deserved to be so…_

“Mother, I killed someone in cold blood, and worse I-” Emily inhaled a raspy, shuddering breath. She swallowed a few more gulps of air, she couldn’t say it out loud.

_...We are only human...As are our actions. It is only what we do after conflict that reflects who we are, and who we are meant to be…_

Emily’s eyes welled with tears despite everything, and she held the heart closer.

“I miss you.”

_I love you with all that I have left to give…_

“I love you, too.” Emily may as well have been 10 years old again. She missed her mother. She missed her father. And she felt alone. Wasn’t she alone? Who was waiting for her, with her mother dead and her father turned to stone?

A face flashed in Emily’s mind. It was Meagan Foster’s face scowling at her lightly after Emily told a really bad joke. Anton Sokolov laughing as he held his paintbrush away from his current painting. Two people, at least, who were counting on her.

Aramis Stilton was counting on her, if he was still alive.

She had a job to do. Whatever she was physically, a monster who craved immoral things, she was still an Empress of her people. The homeless man from earlier that day shone in her mind as well. How could she help him and people like him if she didn’t move forward?

A new brightness bloomed in her heart. Justice for her father, justice for the people she let down, and justice against Delilah and the Duke of Serkonos moved her once again. She couldn’t forget who she was.

Emily looked up at the darkening sky. The day was over, but the night would be young and full of opportunities. With resolve in her heart, she pocketed the Heart and stood. She would fix this. There wasn’t much she could do in the immediate, but she took any steps she could to right the wrong.

But first, a stop to the Black Market for some of that gross blue "medicine".


End file.
